


How Sweet; It’s Disgusting

by markipwiwer



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Multi, also chase and Marvin are there for two seconds, collars and cuteness, implied pet play, look it’s fluff, rape mention but not in the context of them it’s very brief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 18:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14599233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markipwiwer/pseuds/markipwiwer
Summary: Anti falls asleep in Wilfords lap.





	How Sweet; It’s Disgusting

Anti had fallen asleep in Wilfords lap.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, sometimes Anti just tired himself out too much and he’d pass out just about wherever he could flop down. But it wasn’t very often that he allowed himself to be vulnerable, especially with Wilford. Wilford had a tendency of taking advantage of these moments of vulnerability, since he was a total sap. And Anti, as much as he wouldn’t admit he liked it... well, he had a reputation to keep. If Dark and Wilford wanted everyone to know their weaknesses by being open about their relationship, then so be it. But Anti didn’t want to be so easily manipulated. He’d engage more in PDA if it didn’t involve looking cute. Going on murder sprees with Wilford and Dark was the closest he came to going on ‘dates’.

But at the time of Anti falling asleep on top of Wilford, the Ego house had been mostly empty, so he let it happen. It was easy to fall asleep on Wilford, anyway. He was big and soft and all of his bones were mostly in the right places, unlike Darks. And Wilford had the fireplace going, and had been reading a book out loud about the most creative serial killers. The orgasm probably helped too.

Dark walked into the living room, cozy and warm, and paused at the doorway to observe the rare peaceful moment between his partners. Or whatever they were.  
Wilford was stroking Antis hair like he was a cat, and it wasn’t unlike a villain with a kitten in his lap. Anti had curled up tight as well, to top off the whole look. Anti might have pretended to be sick at the all too fond look Wilford was giving him, if he was conscious.

Dark didn’t need to speak to make his presence known. Wilford looked up at Dark and looked something close to worried. Dark slipped out of his shoes and left them in the doorway so he could walk over without making noise.

“I’m surprised, Wilford. I would have expected you to have taken pictures by now.”  
Despite the lack of emotion in his voice and the bland look, the fact that he was whispering so as to not disturb Anti was more than enough indication that he did really care.

“I didn’t want to move, he looked too peaceful!” Wilfords voice was as enthusiastic as ever, and he barely kept it at a quiet enough level.

“He never does this, not in the open. How did you get him to sleep?” Dark raised an eyebrow, looking over the scene curiously.

“A heartfelt handjob and reading about Robert Hansen.”

“The serial killer?”

“Yes. But he was a rapist too. So fuck that guy. Why can’t anyone ever just kill people without being all creepy about it?”  
Wilford failed to realise how strange that sentence probably sounded. His grip on the concept of life and death wasn’t too stable at the best of times, but his grip on the concept of consent was rock solid. So it seemed he valued that more.

Dark chuckled quietly and shook his head, kneeling down to get a proper look at Anti.

“How sweet. It’s disgusting.”  
Dark noted that Anti wasn’t glitching out for once. He was barely staticky at all, his form actually solid for once. He figured Anti must hav really been at peace. He noticed the virus shifting a little, kneading Wilfords thighs in his sleep with a death grip. Suddenly, Wilford flinched and hissed a little. Dark tilted his head, to see what Anti was doing, and noticed...

“Wilford, is that blood?”

“H - He does that... that thing, you know? When his nails or claws or whatever, they protrude and retract again? And it - !” Wilford winced again, but made no attempt to move.

“He’s clawing you. Like a cat.”

Wilford nodded silently, afraid he might yelp or something by accident.

Dark smirked and stood up again, disappearing from the room momentarily, only to come back with a black marker in his hand. He kneeled down again and went to reach for Antis face.

“Dark. Please. He’ll kill you. He’ll kill me. He’ll scratch both of our faces off.”

“I’m willing to take those chances.”

 

A few hours later, Anti was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes in the Septiceye kitchen, attempting to make himself coffee. Marvin and Chase walked in, chatting happily but stopping short when they caught sight of Antis face.

“Dude.” Chase was struggling not to laugh.  
“Oh my...” Marvin was blushing furiously, looking almost frightened.  
Anti grew annoyed quickly.

“What? What the fuck is it?”

Marvin quickly summoned a mirror, handing it to Anti before almost cowering away. Anti barely took one look at the kitty whiskers and nose he had drawn on him before growling and glitching out of the kitchen, leaving his coffee behind.

Marvin and Chase shared a look of concern as they heard glass shattering on the other side of the house, followed by the sound of a distressed Wilford.

“YE’RE A FUCKIN’ DEAD MAN, WARFSTACHE! YE HEAR ME?!”

 

 

Two weeks had passed since the little incident, and there wasn’t much talk of it from anyone else in the Ego household thanks to some... gentle persuasion (threats of violence) from Dark. Most of the scratches and puncture wounds on Wilford had healed, although Dark had made some passing comment about how Wilford certainly didn’t look terrible all marked up like that.

Later that night, Wilford had presented Anti with a collar. It was quite beautiful, as far as collars went, green and silver with Antis name engraved on a heart shaped tag, and a matching leash to boot.  
Anti had crossed his arms, scoffing and trying to be offended, but his dick didn’t seem to get the message. Eventually his brain compromised.

“Ye know I’d make a fuckin’ terrible pet.”

Dark reassured him that this would not be an issue.

Wilford found himself getting scratched up a lot more after that, and he didn’t consider this to be a problem.

**Author's Note:**

> Have you got an idea or a request for a fic? Come shoot me a message at markipwiwer.tumblr.com!
> 
> If you like what I do, please consider supporting me at www.ko-fi.com/markipwiwer!


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